The Peace at the End
by Aileanor
Summary: Sometimes we don't get that happy ending. Hopefully an old man who made a wrong decision many years ago can find some peace.


**A/N. Sorry, this isn't so much a happy one. I'm as much of a shipper as anyone, but I figure that in real life we don't always get the happy ending, and I wanted to explore that a little. This is also inspired in part by the sing 'White Flag' by Dido (with the video featuring David Boreanez). I know this won't be to everyone's taste, but enjoy anyway!**

Deputy Director Seeley Booth eased himself down into his favourite chair, the one by the window. He enjoyed the view out over the park, and it had the additional benefit of being in the corner, back to the wall with an unobstructed view of the room. Old habits die hard, even when you've been retired for 25 years, and Booth was FBI to the core.

Ever since his second heart attack a month previously Booth had been living the Shady Elms Care Home. His three children had been worried about him living alone after his wife died – they had been married for 49 years after all. Agent and Mrs Booth (later Deputy Director and Mrs Booth) had enjoyed a long and happy marriage, raised three beautiful, smart children and enjoyed years of travel after Booth's retirement.

Booth sighed to himself. If he was truly honest with himself – and age 90, with two heart attacks behind him, it was about time - there was an ulterior motive to his extensive travel. If his wife suspected she was kind and tactful enough not to mention it.

He had never found what he was looking for, and he knew now that he never would. He supposed it was his penance. He had made his choice 50 years ago, and whether or not it was the right one, there had been no going back.

_They sat at their usual table at the diner, a plate of fries between them as they discussed their latest case. On the surface nothing had changed, but the swirling tension between them said different. It was frustrating the hell out of Booth – usually he could read Brennan easily, but he couldn't pinpoint what was going on. All he knew what that something was going to break, their metaphorical damn was straining at the seams. He just didn't know how or when it would happen. _

_He never saw it coming. _

_Brennan cleared her throat. "Booth?"_

"_Yeah, Bones?" He affected nonchalance._

"_I, um…" She cleared her throat again, fidgeting with the salt cellar. "I've been thinking. For some time actually. And I've realised something. I don't expect you to do anything about this, but it's important to me that you have all the facts."_

_Booth felt a dragging in his gut. He knew that this was the moment. Sink or swim, live or die. Endure or break. He steeled himself for what might come next. _

"_While I was in Maluku I had lots of time to think. I was able to come to the conclusion that I love you." She met his eyes with her customary forthright stare. For the first time in months, Booth really looked into her eyes, and saw the truth. _

"_I'm not telling you this to end your relationship with Hannah, or from any misguided romantic notions. I just wanted you to know the truth."_

_Booth dropped his head into his hands. "No, no, no. You can't be doing this, Bones. I'm with Hannah. I'm happy. I __**love**__ her."_

_She reached across the table, and rested her hand on his arm. "I know, Booth. Please believe me. I know. Tomorrow morning I'm leaving D.C. I'll be out of your life. I don't want to cause you any more pain, and I need to protect myself." She stood, and dropped some bills on the table. "My flight leaves at 8am, so this is goodbye. And thank you Booth. For everything." She dropped a kiss on his cheek, pausing for only a moment to inhale his unique scent. Then she was gone. _

_Booth was rooted to his seat. He thought later that he should have run after her, stopped her from walking out of his life, but he couldn't move. He'd just heard the words that, a year ago, he had longed to hear more than anything. Now it was all wrong. _

_The next day he woke at 7am, after a few restless hours of sleep. Hannah groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. Booth rolled onto his side and pulled her up against his chest. She turned in his arms and nuzzled into his neck. "Mmm. Let's just stay in bed all morning. Unless you have somewhere you need to be?" He glanced at the clock. 7:15. He thought of the nearly sleepless night he had passed, the roiling mix of anger and hurt inside him. Then he thought of how peaceful it felt, lying in bed with the woman he loved. Even if he was settling, it felt good. He just wanted the simple life, with simple pleasures. In that moment, he made up his mind. _

"_No, I got nowhere to be." _

"Mr Booth?" A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. He looked up to see one of the nurses looking at him curiously. Quickly he swallowed the tears threatening to rise up and slapped on his charm smile. Joanna responded with a bashful smile. _Oh yes, Seeley, 90 years old and still got it!_

"You've got a letter, Mr Booth. And your daughter called, and said she'd be by tomorrow with your grandchildren." She handed him a thick letter before turning away to see to another resident.

Booth looked at the letter curiously. It was thick parchement, and had no stamp on it. Someone had hand delivered it. Booth made a note to ask Joanna who had dropped it off.

Sliding his finger under the flap, he opened the envelope. As he caught sight of the second envelope within his breath caught in his throat. It had been 50 years but he would recognise that graceful, flowing script anywhere. He had read countless case files written in that same hand.

Wanting to prolong the moment, he turned his attention to the note that had fallen out with the second envelope. He didn't recognise the writing on this one.

_Booth, _

_Please forgive the informality. My mother talked about you so often I feel like I know you, even though we have never met. _

_My name is Hope Brennan. I am the daughter of Temperance Brennan. She has been ill for several years, and wrote this letter for you, to be given to you after her death. I haven't read it, but I have spent a lot of time at my mother's bedside in recent times, and she has told me a lot. I believe I may know what it contains, and it may be difficult for you to read. I'll be staying in D.C. for a few days, so if you'd like to discuss it or hear more about my mother's life, please get in contact. I'll leave my contact details with the nurses. _

_In closing, I ask you one thing. Be kind to yourself. If my mother taught me anything, it was the lessons she learnt from you. Hope. Patience. Love. _

_Kindest regards,_

_Hope Brennan. _

Booth felt a choking sob rising up in his throat. He swallowed furiously, determined to do Bones justice and read her first and final communication in 50 years. The reality that she was dead hadn't registered with him yet, he was staving that off, not wanting to accept that fact. He wondered when she had married. Had she been happy? And more to the point, where the hell had she been for the last 50 years?

At first, hurt and confused, he hadn't wanted to look for her, and had been worried about jeopardising his relationship with Hannah. After they were married, he hadn't allowed himself to think about Bones anymore. It was made easier by his promotion to Assistant Deputy Director, when he didn't have to work with the Jeffersonian. In truth it was never the same after Bones left, and by the end he was glad to get away from Angela's accusing gaze and Hodgins' cold shoulder. Only Cam had remained friendly, but even she had made it clear that she thought he'd made a mistake. She was always his friend though, and had been the only member of the Jeffersonian to attend his wedding.

In time his life had been taken over with new friends, children and grandchildren. He made himself a new life. And if, every so often, he had to barricade himself in his study with a bottle of scotch to dull the ache inside, he never spoke about it. Once he and Hannah retired they had taken to travelling to exotic places. And if he had the unacknowledged hope of bumping into Bones in some far-flung jungle or desert, it was never mentioned.

The years had slipped by like quicksilver. He had never made a conscious effort to search for her, afraid of what he might find. And now, it seemed, he was too late.

Taking a few deep breaths he slid open the envelope containing Brennan's letter. He fought against the flood of memories aroused by the sight of her handwriting. He paused, then began to read.

_Booth, _

_If you are reading this then I am dead. My daughter has instructions to deliver this to you when she brings me back to Washington to bury me. If you so wish, you may attend my funeral. _

_I have often been told I am more eloquent on paper than in person. I have written this letter several times, attempting to adequately explain myself but I find that I am unable to fully express all that you mean and have meant to me. _

_You once told me that you were the gambler, and you gambled. Although I hadn't yet acknowledged it to myself, I loved you then. I loved you enough to know that I could never allow you to gamble on me. I would have broken your heart, Booth, and that is one thing I could never do. _

_My time in Maluku allowed me time and space to reflect, and I realised that I did indeed love you. I had in fact loved you for a long time, but wasn't able to recognise my feelings as such. When you returned with Hannah, I was able to see that you had found everything you ever wanted with her. I didn't want to compromise that, but my very presence was causing a strain. With that in mind I resolved to leave. I could not leave, however, without letting you know that you had succeeded. You opened my heart, slowly and surely, patiently, to allow me to love again. You will never know how much you enriched my life by that simple act. _

_My greatest regret, which I will carry with me to my grave, is that I didn't have the courage to accept that gamble. I know you have had a happy life, though. I have kept tabs on you, Booth. Cam was a friend to both of us for many years. I miss her greatly. I am truly sorry that my leaving cost you your friendship with Angela and Hodgins. For the record, Angela has berated me many times over the years for not fighting for you. She and Jack have had a good life, they had five children and I have often been a part of their lives for long periods of time. They have been happy, blissfully happy. Angela died several years ago, but Hodgins will be at my funeral. He will be glad to see you again. _

_You may have noticed that I have a daughter. I adopted Hope a few years after I left America, from an orphanage in Nicaragua. She is very like you in many ways. I find it curious that having left you behind me, I ended up with a daughter just like you. She and I have lived a very good life. We've travelled the world, and built a home together. Hope is married, I have grandchildren and in laws. Occasionally I find myself suffering from a surfeit of family!_

_I'm procrastinating. The purpose of this letter is to tell you the truth that I have lived for 50 years. _

_I love you. _

_I have loved you fully and truly for many years. It has been a lifetime since I've seen you, and to anyone else I seem to have lived a life without romantic love. Still waters run deep, however, and I have never loved anyone else. You know that I don't give my heart easily, but once I give it I give it for life. You have held my heart in your keeping without knowing it. _

_I am so glad you have been happy, Booth. You deserve nothing but light and love, and the joy of life. Please know that you gave me the best gift I could ever have received. _

_I won't see you again, not in this life. If there is another life I will be there waiting for you, and I hope this to be true. The thought of never seeing you again is almost more than I can bear. _

_I love you, Booth. Never doubt it. _

_With all my heart, _

_Your Bones._

The pages slipped from his fingers as Booth felt the tell tale pressure in his chest and pains shooting down his arm. This time, however, he had no wish to fight it. As his vision clouded, one face was shining before him, stretching out a hand to lead him on. He smiled, feeling no pain, only peace, finally peace.

"Bones…"

**A/N I'm truly sorry if anyone's upset by this, but I hope you can appreciate what I was trying to do. Also, I know the letter may be a bit OOC for Brennan, but I figure she's had 50 years to continue to grow and reflect with her new self-awareness, and had many life-changing experiences in that time. **

**And now I'm off to write the fluffiest fluff I can think of!**


End file.
